Housekeeping: The Dogs of Others

Rolling back to Little Town with Himself Sunday, a little dog was running around in the middle of a 4 lane non-divided highway, bewildered and frightened. I saw him almost get hit by cars twice and I couldn't stand it. Himself said "go back. You're just gonna worry if you don't." Was a little Boston Terrier and in pretty good shape. I felt sickly even as I pulled over-- was he going to get run over, or was I going to end up with an extra dog around the house? Who knew which was worse?

Anyway, we drove right over to Little Town PD and Himself went in to make inquiries. Turned out someone had been looking a couple days for a dog that met this selfsame description. They called the number and left a message.

Back home about 10 minutes later, we got a phone call-- the people who'd lost a dog were up at the PD and I said I'd be right over.

Happy reunion and all. I was so relieved the little dog didn't get smushed, and I was so relieved he wasn't going to be staying very long at my place. My house is flush for pups...

...or very nearly... There's a little chiweenie in a yard we walk by when we go for our nearly nightly walks. I've dubbed her Miss Muffin, and she's an absolute gem. When she sees us coming, she otter-lopes through the tall grass. She probably wouldn't make 8 pounds, but she's a long little thing, and super-cute.

Muffin's house has had a For Sale sign in the yard for the whole of this year. I was crestfallen on Saturday when I saw the day-glo orange surveyor flags at the corners of the property. The next day an "under contract" bit was added to the realtor's sign. I'm heartsick. Muffin is the only little dog I'd actually work to make fit into my little pack at the moment. Taking treats to her every night has been a highpoint of our walks, and I'm going to be so blue not to see her yappy little self there in the future. :( I wish I had some staggering pile of cash to offer the owner of the house to let me have her.

Alas.

**********

Got a cheapie reel mower this weekend, Himself put it together, and he mowed most of the yard for me and I did a bit of mowing, as well. LOVE. IT. So much quieter, so much more pleasant than a mechanized mower. The good thing is this one is in time for the cooler weather, and I expect it to be a less brutal ordeal than pushing 30 or 40 pounds of gas-powered mower over the long haul. There's something meditative about the snickety-snickety whirr of the blades, too.

More Windthorst

Lovely little grotto by the Catholic church.








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Cue celestial choir singing heavenly hosannas

Sunday driver post.








This German sausage dog is worth driving many miles for. Yum!!!

This general store was established in 1892, and frankly, I'd just like to move in. Look at that ceiling! Pickle barrels and nice folks. Sat at the table out front eating when a dust devil rolled through. Sunday driving, yeah!!!


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Location:Windthorst general store, windthorst Texas

Sunday, puppy Sunday: Saturday night portraits

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I'm yours.

sometimes, words don't matter so much. :)

call me a prude, but...

...if I can hear the bass on your car stereo from a block away, I don't want to pay for your hearing aids and other hearing loss-related accessories/meds/treatments when you go frelling deaf, okay? I celebrate your right to Play Very Loud when it comes to your own music, but when your music overrides the [vastly superior] audio in my own car, you've gone too far. Somewhere, a tear is rolling ponderously down an old Native American guy's cheek because your music is shitty and you're polluting the atmostphere with it. Just stop, already.


...if you say you can't afford health/car insurance yet choose to spend all your spare change for spinny tire rims and on having black velvet Jesus/Nubian Goddess/Calvin peeing on ____ airbrushed on your tailgate whilst other folk drive sensible, reliable vehicles and pay for their own health insurance, you bloody well don't deserve free healthcare.

If, on the other hand, you turn your ghetto-fabulous/barrio-mobile/apocalyptic white trash hoop-D into a screaming flaming deathtrap for yourself and yourself alone, well, I'm kind of okay with that.

Yes, losers, I'm hating on you.

seasons don't fear the ukelele

How long since I posted a ukelele video?
Well, that's too long.



Gus and Fin put their twist on the Blue Oyster Cult classic Don't Fear the Reaper

Love it.

Blogorado 2.0

FarmFamily's Blogorado was fabulous this year.

I managed to beg Thursday and Friday off from my job last week, so we could make it for more than a day at Blogorado. Departure from town was delayed by a/c problems, and the A/C guy came that morning and interfered with the system so the house wouldn't be hot on Sunday night. Then, with heavy heart, Himself and I took teh puppehs to board at the local place. Yes, I cried. I hate being away from the little darlings, but there was fun to be had and friends to be met.

We drove right on up through the antelope-riddled rugged beauties of the Texas and Oklahoma panhandles, arriving Thursday evening too late for dinner, but plenty early to scarf down some of FarmMom's leftover fried chicken and gravy without ruining our breakfast. Mmmm, gravy. Glorious stuff.

MattG and JPG were already there, as was OldNFO and AEPilotJim, Ambulance Driver and GayCynic. The next day, OldNFO, Jim and AD went to set up the range with FarmDad. I shot the breeze with Matt and LD and IRC regular Vine, FarmMom and MeeMaw. Meanwhile, GC whipped up a glorious lasagna and a chocolate cake that was sublime. I sampled FarmMom's pickles which came in varying degrees of heat. Then Peter arrived from Denver where he'd collected Wing and Oleg at the airport. Soon after, the Nerds' large but useful truck rolled in replete with an embarrassment of riches in the form of their home brew and a couple of glorious pies. We sat in a circle on fold out chairs on the lawn, swapping stories and finishing dinner. Back in Texas, Christina called Jim and instructed him to grab everyone's butt for her, which he did, to the general amusement of all and sundry.

Saturday, we went out to the range and shot to our hearts' content. I shot a couple .44 pistols that I liked. OldNFO told me he'd accidentally brought a Diamondback instead of the lovely Colt's Python he knew I was so fond of. I later overheard LawDog chiding "she won't know the difference."

Bull.

Corn.

Anyhoo, the Diamondback was lovely and all, but I most definitely prefer the Python. *harumph*

More than anything, I shot my beloved Browing .22 lever-action rifle. The funny thing is that since moving away from the city, I really don't make it out to shoot as much as I would like (excepting squirrels who have ideas about cohabiting under my roof). I was quite pleased with my accuracy, for being so out of practice, and I put the hurt on a stack of 4 microwaves and set some steel plates to dancing.

AmbulanceDriver didn't manage to kill his radiator with a buck this time, but he did kill a respectably well-fed 4' rattlesnake on Thursday. I'm happy to report there was no road-side skinning of big game this year.

Dinner Saturday night was Chicken Fried steak, and then came Salamander of kneebeard fame, and TD arrived with his gorgeous girlfriend in tow. Incidentally, TD brought an elephant gun which I didn't get to shoot, since we were leaving Sunday morning. I'm hopeful he'll bring it back next year and I can at least watch someone else shoot it.

The shooting was a hoot, and we all had a good time. Oleg brought an impressive array of guns, and I really enjoyed firing a KelTec .22 rifle he brought with a scope. The air was dry, if warm, and I don't think anyone was miserably sunburned. The whole weekend was a grand affair, but the best of all was the story-telling at the end of the day. We killed a goodly bit of ammo, but more than anything, we shot the shit and tickled ourselves aplenty. Colorado is open-carry, so I sported The Gun That Killed Santa Claus on my belt Friday. *FUN*

This is a fine gang of people, and I can't wait till the next gathering. :) FarmGirl, FarmMom and FarmDad are some of the kindest and best folks you could ever want to meet, and it is a privilege to enjoy their abundant hospitality. I came home with jars of pickles and Dixie Sauce and cucumbers from FarmMom's garden, as well as some recipes. I'm hoping to winnow out those canned delights to bring us closer to the season when we'll be enjoying Blogorado III.

Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!

Pupzebubs were ecstatic, to say the least. We've really got to take down that treehouse-- it scares the crap out of me when I walk out into the back yard and she's all the way up on the deck of the treehouse. On the other paw, I'm afraid she'll go way up in the tree if the treehouse isn't there. She's slightly insane, that one. *le sigh*

Tail wagging to beat the band, Praline seemed to be a series of dozens of hinges. Himself says she is like a salmon on meth. True, that.

Good to have my pups at home and me with them. I'll try to get to that range report on Blogorado tomorrow. Was a grand time.

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Home again.

It's good to be home, but it won't be quite right until teh puppehs are home in the morning. Lots to tell about Blogorado. Was good to see old friends and renew the acquaintances of friends met at the first Blogorado.

More detail to come on Tuesday's post. :)

Cheers!

Sunday, puppy Sunday: missing my babies

Just got home from


Colorado, but can't pick up the puppehs from boarding until the morning. That can't come soon enough.
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Farm country

FarmMom's pickles are superb. Having a bumper crop of cokes this year, she's


sending some home with me. *squeeee!*

Lots of lovely sights along the roadway. Some crops are harvestng now.


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Dateline: Blogorado

Lots of fun had by all.


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Blogorado: for the win

Ask Ambulance Driver about the guy who was beaten to death with a frozen raccoon. Defibrilating chihuahuas was the stinger in the tail of the story.

Suspect it's all downhill from here.




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Wispy white veils

I don't know how well it reads in the photo, but the sunset was spectacular with diaphanous swags of rain falling to the left of the sun. Drive was lovely and i'm happy to report that while not entirely slaked, my gravylust has been assuaged to some small degree. Yum!





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On the road to blogorado

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Red Shirt Cologne. Because tomorrow may never come.

It is incumbent upon me to make you aware of important new products which will improve your life or at least enhance your groove-quotient by even the teeniest bit. In the spirit of bringing wonderful products to the people, I squee'ed when I saw this at Hastings last night. The blurb on the back is priceless:

Put yourself in the line of fire. RED SHIRT Cologne is made for the young, modern man of the galaxy who doesn’t hesitate; who revels in being alive today. RED SHIRT Cologne instills confidence, showing the universe your strength, your valor, your devotion to living each day as though it could be your last.

Bright, clean and Direct with Top notes of green mandarin, bergamot and a hint of lavender, RED SHIRT Finish Strong with base notes of leather and grey musk. It’s a daring men’s fragrance for those brave enough to place no trust in tomorrow.

Red Shirt Cologne: Because Tomorrow May Never Come.

How fabulous is that, eh?

If that weren't enough, there's Shirtless Kirk Cologne:

Shirtless Kirk Cologne for Men Set Phasers for Stunning! Sometimes the only thing standing between you and a successful mission is a thin piece of cloth. And whether in battle or love, you know the shirt is simply…optional. Some say it's the Uniform-made to command respect, strength and honor; but it's your flesh and blood barely contained within that svelte Officer's Attire that make you exactly who and what you are. And you know it. Shirtless Kirk Save the Day. Save the Night.

The funny thing is now I want to wear it. That's not weird, is it?

one more day of work...

Today is my last day of work this week, then I'm for Blogorado and the wilds of somewheres in Colorado. I'm hoping we'll be really lucky and there'll be some of the best gravy to be found on the planet. I'm kinda drooling just thinking about it. Come to that, I've been meaning to give FarmMom's Gravy a slot of its own on the blogroll--it's just that good.

Himself and I went for a long walk with teh puppehs Tuesday night. I'm heartsick about leaving the little devils in boarding. I hate being away from them for even a night. I know they're jolly and their caretakers will be sweet to them, but it feels so wrong to be far away from them, my babies.

Still, there's good friends to be met, and lots of shooty goodness. I'm hoping I'll get to shoot Old NFO's Colt's Python again, and I'd like to kick up some dust with Farm Mom's Judge (which she carries for snake-killin').

Yeah, I've got a day of work ahead of me, but I'm feeling refreshed already. Will post pictures from the road.

Cheers, m'dears!

Neko Case - This Tornado Loves You/ Tombstone Canyon

Nice setting for a beautiful song...

lost weekend, being pwned and low, low hourly rates...

...so on Friday I got to work at 7:00 am and worked until after 7:00 PM, and then I took the "oh, shit!" phone home and Saturday morning is when it went rodeo. The phone rang several times between 6AM and 9:00, and then I was on the phone and computer from 9:30 or so until well after 4:00 pm. I got up to use the terlit a couple times, but after four, it quieted down enough for me to take a shower and finally get out of my pajamas and have some breakfast. Yes, I'll be well paid for that, but I don't feel rested after this weekend. Sunday was more of the same, and I spent several hours dealing with one particular problem child. Tedious, neurotic people can be so enervating, yes? But at least I wasn't at work dealing with that. Being in one's own pajamas makes it all better, I think.

After 5:00 pm Sunday, I started tackling that Close Encounters pile of laundry that's blocked the path through the-- well, I exaggerate slightly, but I've been appalled by my own anti-tidy streak when it comes to clothes since I moved into my house. I started tackling the laundry pile and going through some things and now I have a bag of about $50 of clothes to go back to Target and a bag for Goodwill. Progress!

Another thing I'm doing is converting to those ultra-slim flocked hangers. Have you seen them? They pretty much double the amount of clothing you can hang on a rack. Mind, you could smush your clothes up, too, and I'll still keep the nicer clothes on the department store hangers, but for the t shirts and workaday crap, well, it's nice to be able to cram a whole bunch more in a smaller space. Plus they don't seem to jumble up on each other the way other hangers tend to do.

I'm impressed, and I never stopped to think it was possible for a clothing hanger to impress me. Then again, I'm overworked and my life has packed little in the way of recreation for the past couple months.

Oh, big revelation-- I went with Himself to see Jonah Hex when it came out, and I admit I had low expectations, and I actually sort of enjoyed it-- was not nearly as abysmal as I thought it would be, so starved for entertainment + exhaustion = I sort of thought it was a good movie. Last week, talking with Himself I chuckled that someone said what a profoundly bad film that was and I asked him if he agreed and he knitted his brow, dropped a stitch and nodded vigorously as if to say "of course! It was bad, my dear! Are you feeling feverish?" *chuckle* *shrug* I think he's worried. That, or he's questioning his choice of female sidekick.

So, the money shot of the movie is where Megan Fox is told by a paying guest* that he owns her, and a second later (after she's permanently dispatched him) she says "I ain't much for being owned" to which I inwardly squeal with mirth over what should have been the next line: "but you can rent me by the hour."

3 day work week and then it's off to Blogorado. WOOHOO!!! happy dance

*a John by any other name...

Sunday, puppy Sunday: paws for thought

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Tails a'blurrin

Saturday morning, happy puppies overseeing morning tea time. On call this weekend. Himself calls the s.o.s. phone from work the " oh shit! phone," for some reason.

Oh, shit! There it goes again.

Ttyl



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Some day...

...by the time I'm an old lady, I want a log house. It doesn't have to be huge or even new or fancy. I want one. I love the ones with the chink with pieces of rock in. I particularly like the look of the dovetail notch.

I've been working so much that I've had almost no time for anything other than a walk with Himself after supper of an evening, but lately, I've been stealing moments to scour the web for pretty log cabins. Here's one site that thrilled me by showing some older log cabin restoration. Isn't the resilience of wood absolutely thrilling?

Anyway, these pictures show beautiful craftsmanship, but I actually think I prefer the more rough-hewn looking wood or the wonky logs on the picture below. This one is perhaps my favorite. I love the rocks in the chinking. Click through the arrows to see all the pictures.

Love it.

ex-spats

I confess I do dearly desire these Spat Attack shoes from Irregular Choice with the built-in spats. Spats. Say it a few times: spats. It's fun to say. Purty to wear.

I really really rilly want these.

CUTE!!!

Shotgun Wedding

In Sicily, a wedding photographer was fatally shot when he had the bride and groom pose with hunting rifles. It is not known whether the shot happened while the couple was posing or when the rifle was being handed back to the photog.

I know several people who were packing when they got married, and one of them was even the groom. If you have guns at your wedding, well, I'm all for that, but you should only be handling guns at your wedding if you would normally be handling guns at other times of your life. Guns are not props or toys that know you don't mean to hurt someone. The gun is a tool. The idiot wielding the gun is the wild card element.

Further, someone who knew something about guns should had been overseeing the handling of the guns and should have checked repeatedly to ensure there were no rounds in the firearms. This was a fail on several levels, but mostly it's just a sad story that will be used to emphasize wrong points, I expect.

It's funny, though, when people want to snap a memorable photograph, you never hear of people deciding to juggle chain saws for the first time or posing up close and personal with alligators. Hmph.

Would you believe I just saw Jaws for the first time?

*nodding vigorously*

(here be spoilers)

At Mom and Dad's house last Friday night, I'd driven straight to Dallas from work and arrived in time to catch the 11:00 movie with Dad. Mom went off to bed, and Dad and I sat up chatting and watching the movie. I actually sort of liked it, despite the schticky, formulaic bits. (Crusty Old Tar has friction with young Upstart Ivy Leaguer until they bond over booze and a scar-off) The wistful monlogue of the old sailor was a major tipoff that not only was he not getting out of the film with his dignity (wanna see me take my tooth out? Watch this!), he wadn't getting out with his life, neither.

Anyway - I was 9 when Jaws first premiered, and I remember the titillating intrigue of the cautionary lesson from the poster: ladies who swim nekkid get gobbled up by prehistoric monsers!!! oooh! Scary!

The best thing of all about the movie (besides the quotes about needing a bigger butt(don't we all?) and the one about standing in the foreground "to give a thenth of thcale" was knowing the fake shark was called Bruce was the namesake of the shark in the support group in Finding Nemo.

Anyway, spooling back in my mind to the 9 year old I was, this film wasn't nearly as racy and hot-cha-cha! as I expected it to be. It was not that scary. It was kind of fun, but more than that, it was fun to sit in Mom's recliner and take jabs at the very seventiesness of it all with Dad.

We laughed and laughed. Good times.

Anyway, below is Jaws in 60 seconds (after 30 seconds of titles) and this is pretty much the long and short of it.

what goes around...

Last weekend I had to go to Dallas county to get my infernal emissions test done for my new inspection sticker, my chariot being still registered in that dread county. Having a middling road trip looming in a couple weeks, I took LouLou by Dad's shop for an oil change. I stopped at WalMart and got a 5 quart jug of Mobil 1 in my favorite flavour, a new filter and off I went to get my buggy serviced. Darnitall if I didn't buy a pre-opened jug. Dad's partner told me that he knows a guy who buys the high-dollar motor oil, uses it in his vehicles and then refills the bottles with cheap stuff, returning same to WalMart for a refund on the good stuff.

What a jerk.

Yeah, he shops at that very WalMart.

Meh.

Oh, but the bright spot of the weekend was the car inspection, which was a breeze for LouLou. I generally dread going for the inspection for the interminable waits and the general annoyance of the whole thing. This time Dad told me where he goes for his inspections, and I have to say, if you are not shy of West Davis Avenue Oak Cliff, then you oughta get your inspections done at E C Inspection at 2910 W Davis. Square-dealing and no baloney. Nice guy runs it, too-- seems like a really decent person.

And then, when you're done, you can drive down to Sylvan, hang a left and go to Ray's Sporting Goods at Sylvan and Singleton. Two good reasons to go to Oak Cliff.

Just remember to check the cap on that jug of oil you buy. There's schmucks afoot.

New toy for the chooch

I decided to try a new toy for teh puppehs on Sunday. Chuy played contentedly, blissfully for hours. Then along came praline who shredded it in about 10 minutes.


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Sunday, Puppy Sunday: drumstick twofer

This was late Saturday night. I love their little intertwined drumsticks.

Sunday, puppy Sunday: naptime pupzebubs

Sometimes on weekend mornings, we can steal a nap on the bed. YAYS!

Double rainbow

Driving to Dallas Friday night, I chased the most extraordinary double rainbow in the light of the setting sun. Lightning crackled and stretched out twiggy fingers under the colourful arc. The color of everything seemed beautified by some sort of filter in a symphony of green and gold. It was so beautiful.





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Friday footsies!

I'm not a big fan of Dr. Martens, as I've always found them uncomfortable, and John Fluevog always had boots that were more foot friendly with the same look and supremely better fit, if a little more expensive. Once I was in London in winter and the darling boots I wore for the trip finally succumbed to the cold, wet streets and the leather soles soaked through. I went to a local shop and picked up some Docs that weren't comfy at all after first blush, but I was sort of in a tight spot and had to wear them for most of the trip. I never really got over that. I suppose you have to break in a pair of boots like that, and a walksome holiday is not the time or place... Nordstrom has some new ones out this fall, though, and I'm taking a second look... Hello Kitty punkette? Me-OW!!!

I'm squeeing over these, though. Want the fuschia metallic boots and the red glossy heels in high-shine patent leather.

Fun when it's 110 degrees out to think of wearing boots again. :) It won't be long now.

Never mind infection-nomming maggots, Jack Russells get rid of diseased flesh.

A Florida man's life may have been saved when he passed out and his Jack Russell Terrier set to ridding his big toe of a raging infection that had apparently been raging for months by nomming the toe right down to the bone.



I think if I drank to the degree that I'd snooze through having a digit gnawed off by one of my little darlings, then A) I would be too embarrassed to tell people about my alcohol poisoning and B) I'd never feel comfy sleeping any place my var-meent could get at me.

My goal is that my beloved houndies will restrict their nomming to stuff that simply smells like mommy. Stuff like socks. And other unmentionables. Not that my dogs would ever eat underwear, given the opportunity.

Oh, and I also have a goal of not letting a nasty toe infection go unchecked. Come to that, I have a goal of not having nasty toe infections, full stop. :P

Geoffrey Hughes

One of my all-time favorite tv/film characters is Onslow from Keeping up Appearances. I think one of the reasons I like him so much is that the actor who played him, Geoffrey Hughes, is an absolutely adorable soul.

Here's Geoffrey's being interviewed about a year and a half ago, and I think a lot of what I admire about him really shines through here. he is good-natured, empathetic and predisposed to look kindly upon those around him.




Geoffrey's is in hospital and my heart goes out to him and all his dear ones. I think he's a rarity in that he's one of those people who can't hide what a big-hearted person they are. It's one thing to pretend to be grumpy, persnickety characters, but in the end, you can't hide when you're a loveable old softie. :)

Bless him.

mental deflectives

I don't know about you, but I'm sick of the hair-trigger on the "I'm offended" button.

Anyone ever see Top Gear? This British television show features three car enthusiasts with very different tastes who put various road cars through their paces and wax euphoric or otherwise about same. They are quite entertaining and as purely amusing television goes, it's more clever than most.

I was shocked to learn that one of the hosts, Jeremy Clarkson has been widely decried by disability charities and the people who love them for cracking wise about the faculties of a vehicle:

Jeremy Clarkson's has angered disability charities and carers by describing a car as "special needs" on BBC2's Top Gear show.

The TV presenter was comparing two Ferrari cars when he said the older one looked like a "simpleton".

He then added the car, called 430 Speciale, should be the "430 Speciale... needs" in Sunday's show.

Was that on the tacky side? Unquestionably. Should he have refrained from saying what he said? Probably. Is this enough of a big deal to warrant such a flap that people decry him as insensitive? Uh, I don't think so.

I'll bet that pretty much everyone you meet has some special situation in their life that gives them hardship and grief. Many grapple with an illness on a daily basis. Some are malformed. Some people go through life with ghastly, debilitating cases of assholitis, and do they get a little ribbon on tuxedo lapels at Tinseltown award ceremonies? No! Do women sit around on The View talking about how hard it is for these folks, glycerine tears threatening to crest the banks of their perfectly made-up eyes? Nope. Let's face it- there're enough hard knocks to go around. I'm sorry you're dealing with whatever grievously crappy hand life has dealt you, but we all get our serving of sucky pie, so tuck in and quit whining already.

In fact, in the English language there are so many privileged, protected classes of phraseology these days that I'm amazed we can still communicate at all without stepping on toesies and becoming defendants in various lawsuits. Surely the very plinth of our civilization will buckle under the o'er-weening melodrama of feigned wounded classes.

Christina's Blog Party... in which a whole bunch of cool kids showed up

Christina had a fab party last Friday. Tons o'cool kids came. There was Hols and JPG, Matt G, Jennifer, EvylRobot, AEPilot Jim, DanielS and his lovely Missus, Jennifer (and some fab pink metallic heels)and EvylRobot with some finely-wrought holsters, Sylvilagus Aquaticus and his lovely lady, Okierhio and her blackberry pie, Silver, Chaos, TallyAngel, Mulligan, Ambulance Driver and Miss KatyBeth, John the Texaner, Mr&Mrs BobS, and of course, my favorite redhead Himself. There were several other folk in attendance, so if I've left anyone out, yank my chain and I'll add you to the list. Was a delight to see everyone. We were there but for a couple hours, and I'd been up since 5 or so, so we hit the road and headed home relatively early.

It was a grand affair, and I saw Christina receive a fabulous hostess gift - a .22 rifle. See? She's a natural!

Oh, see LawDog in the picture below. I couldn't bear to crop out that lovely red hair. Anyhoo, I think Christina makes quite the handsome lady with her new boomstick. It was so adorable how she gripped it in her mitts for the first time and hollered "Now I'm officially a Texan! Now they won't kick me out!"

Ah, Christina darlin', I think you've been a bit of a Texan all along! ;)

new kid on the blog droll

Himself has a brother who is incredibly clever. We've been goading him for absolute yonks to stop being stingy with his snark and at last he has conceded and put a tiny sampling out there for all and sundry. Check out Chris Ex Machina. Quite clever, indeed. :)

Om nom nom nom

On the road with Himself this weekend, we passed through a city that has a Jalapeno Tree restaurant. We've gone there before and their Carne Asada is amazing, served with a spicy garlic butter that is toe-curling. Sunday we had the most incredible roasted quail kebabs there-- the best quail ev-AR, and also served with that glorious garlic butter.

For what it's worth, a good friend of mine doesn't like their food, but I've only had those two dishes from the menu, and I suspect that from here on out, I'll only have the quail.

By the way, I noticed I can buy a frozen four pack of quail at the local market for about $18. I'm thinking that just being glorified pigeons anyhoo, I could sit under a bridge and nab four of the little devils for less than a buck in ammo. I figure a bunch of folk talk about pigeon pie for a reason, right? On the other hand, I'd probably be happy to pay someone else 17.50 to dress the dad-burned things. *sigh*

Oh well. To the freezer aisle it is, I suppose. Better still, I'll come up new reasons to travel to or through one of these Texas cities. :)

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: policeman rescues dog

I heard about this video from a fellow attendee at Christina's party last night.

This poor pup was stuck in a fence and the local LEOs do double duty as animal control in this Missouri town, so he frees the pooch, who then runs to parts unknown only to appear later in the video.


Cute. Sometimes a man is a dog's best friend. :)